


A Real Goddess

by galentines



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:53:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galentines/pseuds/galentines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something different happens during Jerry's Painting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Real Goddess

**Author's Note:**

> We still like season 3 AUs, right? This is an oldie from my livejournal a few years back. Hope no one minds me uploading some of my favorite old fics here! Enjoy this nonlinear experiment...

"I kissed Ben."

"Wait, wha..."

Ann stares at her like a gaping fish, mouth open and shock in her eyes.

The lightbulb above them flickers annoyingly.

\--

It's moving fast, maybe faster than Ben wanted, but all Leslie knows is that she wants to feel his skin.

And once his shirt has finally been wrangled off and he looks at her, eyes hungry and hair insane and hands reaching, she suddenly doesn't feel they're going fast enough.

"C'mon, Ben," she whines, pulling her own shirt off as he watches.

"Um. Right."

His large hands slide up her back, leaving goosebumps in their path, and he seems to get the hint.

\--

"Did I scare you?"

“No…”

Ben looks adorably flustered, and she feels a surge in her stomach at the knowledge of what she does to him. He attempts to be casual, leans strangely against the cabinets along the wall, and she automatically mirrors him.

She tells him about the art gallery and he looks at her mouth.

“That sounds like it’ll be a big success, like everything, uh, that you, uh, put your, your--your paws on. Your fingers.”

She won't remember who leaned in first.

\--

"Ron, I'm distracted, I don't think I can give the speech--"

She hasn't seen him since Chris nearly walked in on them, since she had to listen to him talk to a potential date on speaker phone while she could still feel his lips on hers.

"Please, Ron, give the speech Ron, please..."

He might come, he might not. She's jittery either way.

She wants more.

\--

His hands have been warm on her hipbones all night, pressing and holding and pulling. And he's hard inside her, looking up like she really is some kind of goddess.

She swirls her hips, smiles when he groans. Maybe she _is_.

\--

"What about your jobs?"

"I don't know, Ann! I just know... I want to make out with him a lot more. Many times."

"Wow, okay. I'm happy for you! But also, you need to talk to him. Make sure you know what you're getting into."

Leslie tapes her hand on the desk impatiently, remembering the taste of coffee on the tip of his tongue.

\--

She runs because no one is getting this painting, not Martha or Chris or Jerry or anyone.

It's hers.

Only hers.

\--

"Jerry did this painting of me, and it really just made me feel like--"

"A painting?"

"Yes. It's inside." She walks closer to him, and his back hits his car door. "It's uh, a nude."

"Oh."

Goddamnit, if this is his face now, she can't wait until she's _actually_ naked--

"I think we should make out. Like, right now."

Ben's head dips down and she holds her breath, but his lips trail toward her ear instead.

"Drive. I'll follow,” he whispers. “I'll follow you anywhere."  
  
\--

It's a fucking wonder either of them even heard his footsteps, let alone processed that they should stop.

Ben's fingertips slide off her blazer just as Chris enters, a wide grin on his face, overjoyed as if they’re just the people he’s been looking for.

“Leslie Knope! Ben Wyatt!”

Her career could have ended in a matter of moments. She wipes her sweaty palms on her slacks, heart beating fast.

She looks up and Ben catches her eye. It beats even faster.

\--

She can't bring herself to look away from the painting.

In the back of her mind, she wonders if she should feel scandalized. Jerry subconsciously painted her with exposed breasts, after all. So in some weird way, he’s… definitely thought about her topless.

But Diaphenia's posture, four-legged or not, doesn't show a hint of self-consciousness.

So Leslie won't either.

\--

She watches Ben's head between her thighs, and it's heaven. His tongue curls and flicks against her, his fingers wrapped strongly around her hips as they buck.

It's not something she'd expect for a first time, but Ben's turning out to be full of surprises.

"I was a goddess. In-- _oh_ \--the painting."

Ben presses harder; his tongue slips inside and she yelps.

\--

Ann looks around them before leaning in, giddy.

"Was he a good kisser?"

Leslie looks up at the weak light above them and sighs.

"Yes."

\--

She's on cloud nine as she walks to her car, thinking about braiding her hair in the morning.

She didn't expect to find Ben waiting for her in the parking lot, looking wanton and desperate.

When he sees her, he grins shyly.

“Uh oh,” she whispers to herself.

\--

"And you deserve someone amazing, and smart, and beautiful."

Leslie already knows that all applies to her.

She quirks her eyebrow over Chris's shoulder.

"A real goddess."

She doesn't even wait to see his reaction, knows he’s remembering her on top of him last night the same way she is, hard and slow.

She imagines him swallowing dryly, out of words while Chris continues to blather on, stuck with the image in his brain.

She thinks maybe she'll hang the painting in her room tonight for him to see.

\--

He flips her over roughly, thrusting again and again while he whimpers in her ear, tells her how much he wants her, yes, but also how much he likes her, how he wants to take her out and hold her hand and sleep curled around her. He drafts his desires to the rhythm of his hips and Leslie finds herself straining to keep up, wanting all of him at once.

"It's not just me, right?" She can feel his smirk against her neck and she pinches his ass.

"No, it's not just you."

He kisses her as he comes.

\--

"You don't think Chris would really fire you if he found out, do you?"

Leslie pauses.

"I don't know."

\--

“I thought you had a rule about inter-government relationships.”

“Oh, don’t worry, her department is completely separate from ours.”

She clenches her hands into fists and takes a deep breath.

\--

“Make me, stag! I am Diaphenia!”

It’s ridiculously silly, the huge canvas definitely weighing her down as she takes off at a gallop.

She knows just where to bring it, just who to show.

\--

When his lips touch hers, she feels like she's been waiting for this much longer than she realizes.

Her arm curls around his neck and brings him closer, her back pressing against the counter. His lips butterfly against hers and she licks them with the tip of her tongue, wanting to taste him, needing more.

They might be at work, but now that this has started, she's not sure how she'll ever stop.

\--

"I like you," he says breathlessly, as he catches up to her at her front door.

He parked a block down the street just in case.

She pulls him toward her and slams the door behind them.

\--

Ben looks at her apologetically before answering.

“Uh, hi Cindy. Sorry.”

She grips the counter behind her so hard her knuckles start to ache.

How could they possibly make this work? How on earth will she get to kiss him again?

\--

Snug against him in bed, she can't figure out how she didn't jump him sooner. She thought it’d be good, but if she knew it’d be like _this_...

 

"We're gonna keep doing this, right?"

Ben's arms tighten around her, his lips fluttering against her forehead.

"Absolutely."

She sighs into his chest, content.

"I'm sure it won't compare to the real thing, but I need to see this painting."

\--

“Good morning, Ben--”

As her hand touches his shoulder, his head slams into the cabinet


End file.
